Bullet Proof
by TaiDollWave
Summary: The Batman found her, broken and bleeding on the floor. Bruce Wayne decided she couldn't go. Dick Grayson decided she was the only girl for him. And Molly... doesn't know what she wants.
1. Chapter 1

She was laying the cement floor, bent and broken and half dead. It would have been easy to tie some hasty bandages and carry her where the ambulance would find her first. But there was something in the way her eyes were searching the dimly lit warehouse, something in the way she was reaching weakly away from her body, towards him.

Batman bent in one smooth motion and picked her up, holding her against his chest. She reached up with one hand, weakly touching the ears of his cowl. Her hand trailed softly down his bare chin, resting against his chest. If his armor hadn't been so thick, she could have felt his heartbeat.

"I waited for you," she whispered. "I knew you were coming." 

He was silent as he carried her out of the building, amidst the anguished cries of the men who realized that they were now damned, the scent of motor oil and old fish. She somehow smelled faintly of a light flowery perfume. 

One arm dangled at an awkward angle, broken at the elbow. She whimpered when he carried her down the steps. Robin poked his head out of the car, his eyes going wide.

"I didn't know we were bringing souvenirs." he said dryly. Batman just narrowed his eyes, settling the girl in his partner's lap.

"There are bandages in the glove box. See about her head, she cut her scalp at some point." he threw the car in drive as the sirens began to get close. The girl seemed to be drifting in and out of consciousness.

"I wanted to fly." she said softly, clutching Robin's gloved wrist with her good hand. "That was all. He promised."

"No one can make you fly." he shook his head. Batman only pressed on the gas.

"He could have." the girl insisted, her eyes drifting shut. Robin pressed some gauze to her scalp, frowning when it came up red.

"She needs stitches. And her arm set. And maybe a detox, there was an awful lot of crystal in there. Who is she, anyway? She looks so young to be a junkie." when Batman didn't respond, he only sighed. "I guess they start younger and younger."

"She's not on crystal. Look at her face. She hasn't picked at it, and she has all her teeth." he turned into the Batcave.

"Who is she?" the younger man pressed.

"I'm not sure," Batman admitted.

"Master Bruce, I'm afraid that Master Dick is quite correct!" Alfred cried when Batman carried the girl to the infirmary. "She's half dead."

"Resurrect her then." he gave a slight smirk. "I know how to do stitches, it's only her arm I'm afraid about. Perhaps we need to call Leslie."

"Doctor Thompkins will wring your neck for even moving her." the majordomo scolded, brushing her hair back from her face. Her eyes fluttered open.

"Where am I?"

"Quite safe, Miss..." he trailed off.

"Molly,"

"Miss Molly. You're in good hands. Rest quietly." he bustled about, collecting various instruments for Bruce, who was still wearing his costume. Robin had slinked away to go and call Leslie in the meantime.

She closed her eyes as her hair, slick and sticky with her blood, was parted and the needle entered her scalp, pulling the wound closed. She hissed, her fist clutching handfuls off the snowy sheets.

"I am ruining your sheets."

"There's bleach," Alfred reassured her. Batman then wrapped her arm in a crude sling and helped her sit up to wait for the doctor.

"I've set the arm and sedated her. Bruce, you really can't bring home any more strays." she sighed, patting her graying hair back into a bun. "She's in pretty bad shape. She's malnourished. Who is she?"

"I found her in the last bust of Two-Face's cronies." he said darkly. "She didn't look like she belonged there." 

"No, she certainly doesn't. She isn't an addict. She isn't a gangster girl. Why, Bruce, if it wasn't for the injuries, she could be an ordinary girl, one of Dick's class mates, even. What did you say her name was?"

"We've only gotten a Molly out of her. Dick's running the missing children database. Someone must be looking for. How long will she be asleep? Long enough to be moved? I can't leave her down here forever."

"You can move her as soon as you're ready for her." Leslie made to exit. "Make sure she has an appointment in a few days so I can x-ray her arm and check for healing."

"Molly? Molly Carpenter?" her eyes fluttered open. She was propped up in what must have been the most gorgeous bed she'd ever seen.

"Yes, yes that's me." she squirmed, away of the unfamiliar nightgown, of the unfamiliar scent of the detergent in the crisp bedding. It was a wonder she'd gotten any sleep, as strange as these surroundings were.

"Good!" a vaguely familiar man was setting a tray on the heavy bedside table, with a delicate tea cup, a lovely thin china plate, and some of the most delectable looking muffins that Molly had ever seen.  
"Master Bruce will be in to look on you momentarily, Miss Carpenter." 

"Molly." she said softly, looking curiously at her broken arm. "Please, can you call me Molly?"

"I will try and remember." he stepped back from her bed. "Drink you tea before it gets cold. I thought that black would be too strong for you and green too bitter. I thought some chamomile was just right. Good for the soul."

"Yes, well... Might I ask you to refresh me memory-." she trailed off and sighed. She reached up and touched her hair, cringing at the harsh feeling of the stitches, the crunch of her still bloody hair.

"Sir. I don't know who you are. I don't know who Master Bruce is. I don't understand where I am or just what happened." 

"Master Bruce, Master Bruce WAYNE," Alfred stressed. "Will be able to explain. I promise. Drink your tea." she almost instantly reached for the cup, enjoying the warmth that penetrated the china and spread across her hand. She sipped quietly, contemplating the blueberry muffin when there was a knock on the door.

"Come in?" she called uncertainly. A tall man with dark hair and eyes and a distinguished chin stepped in, tugging at the sleeves of his shirt.

"Miss Carpenter?" 

"Molly!" she sighed. The man seemed to jump a bit. She shook her head. "I'm sorry, I'm not trying to be rude. Miss Carpenter is my mother. My name is Molly. Please, call me Molly."

"Molly, then. I'm Bruce Wayne. How are you feeling?" 

"Confused." she squirmed on the bed. "What happened to my arm? Where am I, exactly? Is that sugar on that muffin?" 

"It is sugar," he crossed the room and broke off a piece of the hot treat for her, watching her pop it into her mouth. "Alfred always puts extra on top. Dick Grayson, my ward, likes them that way."

"Right," she chewed and swallowed.

"Molly, I have to ask you some difficult questions." he arranged himself in a delicate ladies' sitting chair tucked away in a corner by the window. The sunlight came streaming in on him. It was a wonderful portrait, Molly thought. Would have been nice to draw.

"I think you have some to answer, too."

"Probably." he smiled a bit. "Do you know a man named Two Face?" she looked at him blankly.

"Not like, personally. I mean, I've seen him on television and in the paper, but I don't, you know go out to coffee or anything..." she trailed off, her cheeks going pink.

"So you had no idea what was going on in that warehouse you were in last night?" 

"I went there with a friend. He said we were just going in for a minute. I knew it was a bad place. I didn't understand what was going on until the Batman came in. There were people yelling and there were the guns going off." she swallowed. "I don't know what happened after that. Did Two Face have something to do with it?"

"Well, I'm not entirely sure. Batman brought you here, and I had your arm set. You must have been clipped in the head. I suppose you might have fallen or someone grabbed your arm. The men that were surrounding you wouldn't likely thinking twice about hurting a young lady." she gave him a tiny smile. "May I check your stitches?"

Molly bowed her head. In the filtered sunlight, through the filth and blood, he could see she had black hair, and the most startling green eyes he had ever seen. He checked his own handiwork, satisfied she wouldn't pop them.

"Was someone looking for you, Molly?"

"Looking for me?" she repeated weakly. She rubbed the side of her neck, her arm tracing down her sling.

"I hadn't been home in a few days, no."

"Why not?" Bruce prodded gently. Her mouth worked a few times.

"My mom and I had a fight. I was going to go home tomorrow." she said quickly. "I just needed a little breathing room. I called Mom, she knew where I was. Well, not last night, but she knew where I was staying. Is she looking for me?"

"She called the police last night when you didn't call to let her know where you were. She was worried. Alfred has called to tell her where you are and that you're MOSTLY in one piece." he eyed her arm.

"Is she coming for me?"

"Tomorrow. The doctor I had look at you wanted you to stay in one place." she squirmed in the bed again. Bruce ripped her off another piece of muffin. "But you look awfully hungry for someone who's only been gone a few days."

"I may not have eaten before hand. Being mad ruins my appetite." she said flippantly. Bruce shook his head as he walked out of the room.


	2. Chapter 2

Dick Grayson tiptoed into the room where the girl was laying. She was asleep, having swallowed the pain pill that Alfred handed to her. She was laying in an old nightgown Alfred had found hidden in some forgotten dresser drawer, with long soft cotton sleeves. Dick had never seen anyone wearing something like that outside of historical movies.

He reached for the heavy blanket, pulling it up to her chin. He considered for a moment the sharpness of her cheekbones.

"Molly," he whispered in the dimness of the later afternoon. Bruce had said that once upon a time this room had been his mother's favorite. She had decorated it beautifully. That explained the brass bed and the lacy blankets. That explained the rosy carpet, and the pretty white furniture. Perhaps it had been decorated for the daughter that never had a chance to come.

"Molly,"

She stirred amongst the bedding, turning onto her back, one hand coming to rest by her mouth. Dick stepped away from the bed and crept out of the room. He'd seen her before, seen her at the mall, sitting by the fountain with a small knot of girlfriends. He had seen the sharpness of her eyes, had watched her flirting with the other private school boys.

He'd never been brave enough to speak to her.

But here... Here was a chance.

She woke up again, moving painfully. She had been dreaming, dreaming of the way something had felt underneath her hands. She rubbed her eyes with her one hand and looked around.

"Hello?" she whispered. The whole house seemed to be still. House? If she was at the home of socialite Bruce Wayne, this was going to be a mansion. She snorted as she threw back the sheets and tip toed towards the door, eager to find a bathroom.

She slipped stiffly down the room, aware or the aching in her own body not just in her arm. She kept going, careful and half afraid and someone would come and scold her. But what is there to scold? If she didn't find a bathroom, she was going to piss her bed, which would really warrant some trouble.

"Not that one," said the lightly accented voice as she reached for the first door that felt maybe bathroomy to her.

"You want the one on the left, Miss Carpenter."

Molly jumped a mile and then turned to glare. It was the man who had brought her breakfast yesterday, and given her a pain pill, which wsa sounding pretty good right about now anyway.

"You almost gave me a heart attack Mr..." she trailed off, not sure what to call him.

"Alfred. I'm the butler here at Wayne Manor."

"And what's your last name?" she asked sweetly.

"They just call me Alfred."

"I know, but I can't. You're er," there wasn't a delicate way to say this. "You're over eighteen, you're not a relative, and you're not a family friend." hopefully he wouldn't think she was calling him old, though he didn't look like any spring chicken.

"I see. Well, Miss Carpenter, it's Pennyworth."

"No one calls me Miss Carpenter, Mr. Pennyworth. It's just Molly." she felt like she was repeating herself. "Didn't I ask you this before? I feel so fuzzy." she put a hand to her forehead.

"Hurry back to bed, Miss Molly. You're due for another dose, and you're looking a bit pale. You need some food." he frowned, looking at her face. "You're too thin."

Inside, she was delighted. She hadn't ever really been called thin before in her life. She had stretched the truth to Mr. Wayne. It hadn't just been a few days since she'd been home, it had been a few weeks. She had been living on cheap grapes and soda, white bread and some peanut butter. Whatever she could afford from returning bottles.

True, she was worried about vitamins. She'd meant to purchase a bottle, but when she saw the price, she couldn't bring herself to do it. And stealing was out of the question. She might be picking through Dumpsters and sleeping on park benches, but she didn't steal.

She finished in the bathroom and exited, wandering back down the hall to her room, climbing back into the bed. Alfred appeared in a moment, presenting her with a bowl of oatmeal and another pain pill. Molly didn't care for oatmeal, finding it lumpy and displeasing, thick and gloopy. But she thought better of complaining.

"It isn't Quaker oatmeal." she blushed. He must have caught her glancing at it. "It's all homemade, my dear Molly." he put the tray on her lap.

"Mr. Pennyworth? Is Mom—my mother coming later today?"

"Indeed. In a few hours. I thought to hold off your pain medicine, but given the way you look..." he shook his head. "I'll bring back in your clothes. I washed and mended them. The bottoms of your jeans were a disgrace, Molly."

"I walk a lot. I'm short. It's hard to find jeans that fit right. I walk on the hems." she shrugged. "But thanks."

He nodded and left, leaving Molly to her oatmeal. It was true, this was lump free. It was still thick, but smooth wand warm, leaving a spreading feeling in the pit of her stomach. She drank the tea he had put on her tray again, swallowing the pill. She leaned against the pillows.

She drifted in and out of sleep, stirring for real when Alfred came back, carrying her bundle of clean things. She blinked and yawned, embarrassed to look so lazy in someone else's house.

"Is Mom here?" she sounded eager, almost desperate. Alfred looked away. "She's not coming today. She called and said there'd been an emergency at work, and you'd understand what that meant?"

Of course. She fell back into the pillows and nodded, staring at the ceiling. The British man hadn't raised two stoic boys not to know what it meant when someone was doing that. The girl was near tears. He wanted to ask about it, but hesitated. Perhaps it was better for her if he left her be.

"Can I do anything for you, Molly dear?"

"No," her voice was small and delicate. "I know what it means. It's the reason I left to begin with. Mom loves me, she does. She's just... I can't..." she shook her head. "Thank you, Mr. Pennyworth."

He could only nod and leave the room.


	3. Chapter 3

The next morning, she was well enough to get up and come join them at the breakfast table. She sat like a well trained lady, her knees pressed together. She ate awkwardly with one hand, her fork spearing the scrambled eggs and bringing them to her mouth.

"So where do you go to school?" 

"Gotham High. I'm a freshman." she looked uneasily at her sliced ham. Alfred hurried over and took the plate.

"I'm so sorry, Molly. I didn't think about that." began to cut the meat. She just smiled and accepted her plate again.

"What do your parents do for a living?"

"She doesn't need the third degree, Bruce." Dick raised an eyebrow.

"I'm just making conversation." he held up his hands. Molly smiled.

"It's okay, Dick. My mom works in Intake for Gotham Memorial Hospital. In the ER. That's why she's working and didn't come pick me up last night. The get busy sometimes." she shrugged. Bruce nodded.  
"My dad worked for GothCorp before they got divorced. I don't know what he does now." there was an awkward silence in the room.

"I'm sorry," Bruce wasn't sure what else to say. She only shook her head and went about her breakfast. He loved the way she could be so nonchalant, he realized. He loved that she didn't let it make her feel awkward. He watched her eating, in her plain black t-shirt and faded jeans. He hadn't noticed the saint medal dangling from her throat before. He hadn't counted the studs going up her ears. She had two earrings in each lobe and two in her cartilage.

"So, thanks for letting me crash here. Is there anything I can do to earn my keep? I know I've got this bum arm." she wriggled it in the sling. "But I can sew. Got any mending?" 

"No," he grinned at her. "But thanks. Dick offered to take you out around the grounds today on the four wheeler."

"Sir! Her arm!" Alfred looked up sharply.

"She's in good hands. Dick won't hurt her. He'll be very careful." Molly noticed him giving the boy the hairy eyeball and wondered if this had been an issue in the past. How many injured damsels in distress had Batman dropped off here?

Batman... He had been in her dream last night. She had relived the moment when she realized shit was hitting the fan when she was with Daniel. When she saw the packages of drugs, when she got that tingling down her spine that let her know she was in way over her head. Her body had started to tense, and she could feel her adrenaline flowing when she heard the shouts and looked up. And there he was, there he was, swinging through the broken glass. She'd known in that moment that he was going to save her. She didn't have to run, she had to stay out of the way.

"We're not going to go over the hills, Alfred. I promise." Dick gave a winning grin and she looked at him. Looked at the tousled black hair, the smart blue eyes. She'd seen him around a time or two at the mall, but never spoke to him.

"I suppose... She needs a coat. Why were you out without a coat, Miss Molly? You could catch pneumonia." he began to lecture. 

"It isn't even snowing yet." Molly smiled in spite of herself. Dick just rolled his eyes at her. He watched her stand gracefully up, accept the huge old coat, one of his own old ones, that Alfred handed her. He stepped forward and helped her zip it over her broken arm.

"Come out into the fresh air with me, Molly." he gave her a winning smile. He was a good two years her senior.

"Lead the way,"

Bruce watched them go. He folded his hands and rested his chin on them thoughtfully, hearing Dick in the garage as he got out the four wheeler, instructing Molly to put her helmet on. He looked knowingly at Alfred as he came to collect the plates of the teenagers.

"I have to say, she's a nice little girl, but I'm kind of glad she's leaving tonight." 

"Is that so, sir?"

"She a distraction for Dick." he stood and put his own napkin down. "Shame her mother couldn't come today. Did she take it hard?"

"She was heartbroken. She's a bit of an odd duck, isn't she?" the older man carefully piled the silverware on top of the plates.

"No, she's just independent. I find it quite refreshing. She sure doesn't take on the whole helpless woman role, does she?"

"Well, in my day they didn't train ladies to be that way." Alfred sniffed, smiling in spite of himself when Bruce burst into laughter.

Molly sat on the back of the four wheeler, her good arm looped around Dick's slender waist, her thighs brushing against his. He sped through the woods, heading straight for the rolling hills that beckoned them just out of sight of the house.

"Didn't we promise not to go out here?" she shouted over the sound of the rushing wind and the snapping twigs beneath the wheels. Dick only laughed.

"I said we wouldn't go OVER the hills. I didn't say we wouldn't go up one way and go back down the same way. Now did I?" Molly laughed too, and a warmth spread through Dick's stomach. Weird, he thought. She's cute, but she isn't hot.

He sped them up a hill and stopped. He felt her stop breathing, felt more than saw her looking out of the landscape. Bruce always said he liked his privacy, but Dick and Alfred knew he had a soft spot for the Earth. It was why he employed a gardener two days a week, except out here where he only left paths for cross country skiing and snowmobiling and the four wheeler.

Molly sighed and leaned into his back, her chin on his shoulder.

"Take me down now Dick."

"Are you scared?"

"No," she said it with an air of blatant disregard that made his heart thump a little bit faster. He remembered being that careless. Then again, he was older than she was. Perhaps she would never be as old as he was.

"Do you trust me that much?"

"Oh no," she laughed, causing a pink heat to spread across his cheeks. "It's only that I'm just not afraid of getting hurt."

"What are they doing?" Alfred poured a cup of Earl Gray for Bruce down in the Batcave. He wasn't in costume, but he was intently watching the screens from the cameras he had spread through the property. Bruce smirked.

"Going on the hills." 

"He promised!"

"Now said he wouldn't go OVER, not ON. Besides, don't you think I would say something in the ear piece if I thought he was putting her in danger? She's just a loaner, after. She's not ours to break."

"She was already damaged goods when we got her." Alfred muttered.


	4. Chapter 4

"We should get back for lunch." Dick steered them back towards the house. Molly sighed again, letting her weight rest against him.

"You must love it out here."

"Why do you think that?"

"All this space, all this... Freedom." the way the last word rolled off her tongue sent a shiver down his spine. He could hear all the violent desire she was harboring.

"It isn't what you think it is." Dick said grimly, speeding up just a little bit.

"I don't think you've ever been as boxed as I have." they returned to the garage. She climbed off and began to struggle with her helmet. "I can do it!" she snapped as Dick reached out to help. He stepped away, undoing the strap on his own before gently grasping her wrist and pulling her hand away.

"It's okay to need help, Molly."

"It isn't. Not really." she mumbled, but remained still while he set her free. He took the chance to

part her hair and look at her stitches.

"I don't even think you'll scar there." 

"Who cares? It'll always be covered by my hair, unless I become some kind of Buddhist monk. Well, maybe that's a possibility." she said thoughtfully, heading into the mudroom to get to the kitchen. Dick hurried after her.

"Are you Buddhist?"

"Oh no. I just like keeping my options open." she winked one bright green eye before undoing her coat and hanging it up.

After lunch, she returned to her room for another pain pill and a nap. When she awoke, the later afternoon sun was struggling through the lacy curtains. She rose and began to strip her bed, carefully piling everything at the foot of it.

"What are you doing, Molly dear?" Alfred poked his head in.

"I'm stripping my bed. It's what you do when you're leaving someone's home and you've gotten their sheets dirty with your body oil and dead skin cells." she said matter of factly.

"You know, the owners of this home DO have hired help to do these things." 

"I don't pay you." 

"Well... Yes, that's true." he admitted reluctantly.

"I can carry these down to the laundry?" before the butler could respond, Bruce stepped into the room, looking grim.

"Molly, the hospital just called." 

"Do they need Mom overnight AGAIN?" she groaned. "Come on, I know she's a nurse but that's two in a row. She hasn't seen me in DAYS!"

"I'm afraid it's more serious than that." her heart stopped beating in her chest. She looked up, clutching a handful of the flat sheet. It wilted to her side, almost pulling the whole mess of bedding down onto the floor.

"Wh-what happened?" she stammered.

"Maybe you should sit down. Alfred, can you go and get her some chamomile tea?"

"I will NOT sit down." her voice took on a sharp edge, the bow drawing quickly across the strings of the violin. "Tell me what's happened to my mother, Mr. Wayne."

"Why don't you come into my study?" she asked desperately.

"Tell me this INSTANT!" she stamped her foot. This was a force to be reckoned with, Bruce realized. She was headstrong and full of adrenaline. She was already starting to breathe faster. Dick hurried down the hall. Alfred held one hand across the boy's torso, keeping him from entering the room. He himself had backed into the doorway.

"Molly, your Mom..." he sighed. Dick and Alfred were hanging onto his every word too. "Molly, your Mom was in an accident."

"But she's going to be all right? That's why she's not coming tonight, she's recovering? Well, will you drive me to the hospital to be with her?"

"She's not recovering."

"Yes, she is." 

"No, Molly." he could barely speak above a whisper. "Her brakes gave out. She wrapped the car around a tree, honey." 

"There must be some mistake." her lower lip was quivering. Dick shook his head. Alfred slowly backed out, taking Dick with him, leading them both down to the kitchen.

"Alfred! I could have said something."

"Master Richard, did you see the fire in her eyes? Things are going to get ugly up there, and she is bound to say some things that she doesn't mean." the butler shuddered. "I don't even want to be up there."

"So we're leaving her alone with Bruce?"

"I'm afraid that Master Bruce has been through this twice before. Best to leave him to it." he said grimly.

"She drove a really common looking car."

"Molly," Bruce began, only to have her interrupt.

"Maybe another nurse was borrowing her scrubs. Or had her name tag. She said that happened when they got really tired, sometimes."

"Molly,"

"Or, you know, she could just not be dead. She said sometimes they called families and reported deaths that hadn't happened. Just every now and then."

"No. Molly." she looked up, her eyes going wide. They were still for a moment.

"I want my mother." she said stonily. "Take me to my mother."

"I can't. I wish I could. I would if I could." he shook his head.

"I said take me to my Mom!" she screamed. In the kitchen, downstairs, Dick cringed. Alfred shot him a look and set about making up a tray of tea.

"Don't scream, you'll get yourself worked up."

"Don't tell me what to do! I don't belong to you! I belong to her, I belong with her, so take me to her right now! Take me home, Mr. Wayne! I want to go home!" 

"There's no one there. I couldn't leave you alone there, who knows what could happen?" he slowly closed the door.

"Oh, like I can't take care of myself." she gave him a disgusted look, and Bruce was reminded that even teenage women were still women. It was frightening, he thought, how quickly they learned those withering looks.

"Like I haven't been doing it for years while Mom worked the night shift." 

"Molly, you're still fourteen. I can't just take you there and leave you. How are the bills going to get paid? Who's going to take you to the grocery store, or to the doctor?"

"A neighbor! A friend's mother! I just want to go home!"

"I'm sorry." the words hung thickly between them. She began to cry them, crystalline tears from those emerald eyes. He wanted to reach out and take her face in his hands. His chin tingled from where she had touched him that night.

_I knew you'd come for me..._

"If you were sorry... Do you have any idea what's going to happen to me? No one's heard from my dad in years. Mom's parents are dead. That's it. I've got no one. They're going to throw me into foster care and shuffle me around." 

"No no, you won't have to. You can stay here." he said it before he'd even thought about it. But it was feasible. Dick could use another young person around. Of course, the Batman thing would be a problem, but they'd cross that bridge when they came to it. He just knew that he couldn't let her put into the system. There was something in her, a certain ferocity that he knew would be trampled if he let that happen.

"Oh, the benevolent rich man collects orphans. How kind of him." she spat sarcastically. "I won't be a charity." her resolve seemed to crumble, her neck bending as she put her head in her hands, her shoulders shaking.

He reached an arm towards her, let it fall to his side. Best not to touch her yet, best not to spook her.

"I'm not trying to collect you or make you a charity, Molly. I just... I don't want you to have to go into the system. You're right, it's hell. They try their best, but the case load is horrendous." he was babbling.

"You won't love me!" she finally screamed. Bruce was stunned.

"Of course I will. Do you think I don't love Dick?"

"No! You won't love me like she loves me. You can't love me like she loves me. I need her, Mr. Wayne. I need my Mom. I need... You can't give it to me. Not all your money can give it to me." she was choking now, near hyperventilation.

"Molly..." he trailed off, unsure of what to say. She was right, he couldn't love her like her mother loved her. But how do you say that a door prize is just as good? Could you even try and say that to someone?

"You don't love me like she loves me. You don't." she had sank to the floor, a pile of misery. Bruce walked over slowly, sat next to her, his back against the bed.

"Molly," he let his hand rest on her shoulder. She turned to him then, turning her tear stained face up to him.

"I am so sorry."

She gasped, the tears falling. She reached out to his face, her fingers brushing against his chin. He remained silent, willing his heart rate to stay steady as her hand fell to his chest. She could only shake her head, grief having swallowed any of her words. She bowed her head, her arms pulling back into her, curling into a ball.

Bruce reach out and pulled the small, feminine ball into his side. He let her lean against him, exhausted and stricken, softly sobbing.

"I want her." she said brokenly.

"I know," he put his hand on the small of her back. She pressed her face to him, and he stroked her damp hair, careful of her stitches. "I know, Molly, I know."


	5. Chapter 5

The next week was a whirlwind of planning. Bruce had arranged the paperwork for Molly to stay as a temporary ward, until such a time that a more permanent residence could be established for her. He assured her that she wouldn't have to leave, not if she didn't want to.

Molly only nodded woodenly, rubbing at her casted arm. She spent most of the week laying in her bed (and that room was quickly becoming her room, Alfred mentioned one night. He himself hadn't thought of it as Mrs. Wayne's Decoration Project anymore, but Molly's Room) with the lights turned low and the curtains drawn.

They were lucky if she came out for dinner, poking at her plate. Alfred had gone as far as to make chicken nuggets, something he normally despised, to see if she'd eat them. She took a few token bites in appreciation, then left the plate alone.

Bruce quietly selected a coffin, a funeral home, a burial plot. He was sure these were all things that Madeline meant to get, but never got around to. Why would she? She was young, with a career, with a beautiful if a bit headstrong teenage daughter. Her life insurance policy Bruce put in a trust for Molly.

It rained on the day of her funeral. A few nurses from the hospital, a handful of teenagers that Molly knew. They stood outside shivering under umbrellas and thin hoodies. Molly stood by the graveside, an elegant mantilla thrown over her dark hair.

Bruce watched her out of the corner of his eye, holding the umbrella above her head. Dick stood on her other side, his head bowed. Alfred had stayed behind at the car, watching from afar. Molly had said he was welcome to come.

"No, dear." he said gently. "I don't want to make a spectacle."

"You're my friend, Alfred." she said quietly, her voice full of heartbreak. Alfred paused.

"It would be best, Miss Molly, if I stayed behind." there were things she didn't understand about this life. Things she probably never would. There was nothing to be done for it. Bruce only put his hand on her shoulder, feeling the warmth radiating from her body beneath the heavy black dress she had donned.

The minister intoned the final words, the crowd dispersed, murmuring kind words to Molly.

"If you need anything..."

"I'm so sorry..."

"She sure loved YOU, that was for sure."

"Let me know if you wanna talk, Molly Dolly."

Dick squeezed her hand, pale and still at her side, before walking back to the car. He glanced several times over his shoulder at his guardian and friend. He slid into the car, already warmed by Alfred.

"She didn't cry."

"She did, Master Dick. Why do you think she insisted on those dark glasses?" it was true, she had worn wire rimmed pitch black sunglasses, even though there hadn't been sun in two days.

"She's so QUIET." he sighed, rubbing his damp hair.

"You were silent to, for days when you first came to us. She needs time, Master Dick. That's all."

Molly stepped towards the grave, staring into it. Her hands remained limp at her sides, the lace of her mantilla clinging to her face. Bruce remained standing there with the umbrella, listening to the rain falling on it.

He let her stand for a few moment before quietly walking towards her.

"Molly? You'll catch a chill." she was silent for a moment.

"Bruce..."

"What is it?" he wanted to put his hand on her shoulder, but hesitated.

"Mom's dead."

"I know." she turned then and hugged him with a desperation that bordered on violence. Bruce felt the pressure of her arms around his ribs, her face pressed to his chest. He hugged her back, his hands on her shoulder blades.

"Bruce," she gasped, her face wet with tears and the freezing spring rain. "Bruce, I just..."

"I love you." he said quietly, the umbrella falling to the ground. "I know it's not the same. I know that I can't love you like she loves you. I know that I will never replace her. I just never want you to feel like you're not loved. I love you." 

She pulled her face back. He pulled the wet lace off her head and picked up their umbrella, leading her to the car.

Her things arrived later that week. Bruce came home from the office, already hearing the faint sound of rock music from the front door. He could hear the sound of a voice, a voice familiar and yet not, singing along.

"What's going on?" he asked as he loosened his tie.

"I believe, sir, that Miss Molly has made herself at home."


	6. Chapter 6

Her stitches had come out, and Molly was appearing at the breakfast table wearing rumpled pajamas consisting of men's t-shirts and boxers. The first time she'd shown up, with her hair tangled around her face, her eyes blurry, her lips swollen and pouting, Dick had lost his breath.

He put his spoon down n his oatmeal as she sat down, her legs long and lean. He suddenly wanted to wrap his hand around her ankle, let his other hand stroke up and down her calf.

"Good morning, Molly." Alfred eyed her as he delivered the muffins. Since she moved in, he had begun making them more often, because she so enjoyed then. She just smiled and began to eat, ripping off pieces of banana walnut muffin and sliding them into her mouth.

"You're not dressed." Dick said bluntly. Bruce glared. "What! We're all thinking it!"

"I'm dressed." she frowned. "I'm not going to put on school clothes to get them dirty if I spill something at breakfast."

Everyone paused. She had a point. Molly continued to eat her muffin and sip her juice.

"Speaking of school, I wanted to talk to you about that. That semester is almost over, but I wondered if in the fall you wanted to go to school with Dick." Bruce wiped his mouth. Molly looked up, much more awake.

"You mean leave Gotham High? And start going to Prep?"

"Yes," he smiled. She stared.

"No, I don't want to go there! I want to stay with my friends. I've known some of those kids since kindergarten." she stood up, the t-shirt falling down around her thighs.

"Calm down, I didn't say you had to. It's just that... You're the ward of a rich man now, Molly."

"I know that, Bruce. I'm living in a freaking mansion now, I might have picked up on the fact you've got a couple bucks."

"You'd be getting such a good education at Gotham Preparatory, though." he argued. "I just want you to have the best of everything."

"I have plenty at Gotham High. Not everything can be bought, remember? We talked about it." she turned to pad towards her room. "I have to get ready to be dropped off at the bus stop." she mumbled.

Bruce sighed and rubbed at his temples.

"Thought that would go better?" Dick sighed, standing up and putting his leather jacket on. "I'm ready to go." he said to Alfred, who nodded.

"Very good, Master Richard. Will we be waiting for Miss Molly, sir, or did you want to drive her?"

"You'd better, Alfred. She'll give me some kind of death stare. Women are so good at that." all three shuddered. Molly exited her room, came back into the kitchen in skin tight leggings and a short black dress, her hair tied with a black ribbon. She wore black Mary Janes and walked primly towards Alfred, her coat dangling from her hand.

"Best put that on, if you please, it's still chilly out." she silently obeyed, not even looking at Bruce. There was something in her angry silence that made him want to apologize to her.

Living with a woman was harder than he remembered.

She was stretched out on her stomach, her legs crossed behind her. Alfred had thought perhaps she'd like celebrity magazines. But no, instead she was stretched out reading some novel from the used bookstore. He stood in the doorway watching her for a moment.

The room had changed since she'd moved in. Now there were posters pinned up of strange bands with lots of metal in their faces who sang about being sad all the time. Alfred didn't understand the appeal, but he liked to watch Molly dancing as she picked up her room. There were stuffed animals on the bed, unicorns and teddy bears and dragons. A laundry hamper over flowing with some of the shortest skirts Alfred had ever seen took over one corner.

The dresser top was littered with make up and nail polish, lipsticks and perfume bottles. The whole room smelled like her perfume, a scent that followed her through the house. It wasn't unpleasant, and so she found he couldn't complain.

"I must go to the market. Do you want to come?" she shook her head, crossing her legs the other way.

"Is it okay if I stay here?"

"I don't see why not." he hesitated. "Master Bruce's number is on the fridge. He's just at the office for a few hours. And Master Richard will be home maybe before me." her school had a development day. She'd spent the day in her room, reading quietly and surfing the Internet on the laptop Bruce had purchased "for school".

It had snapped her right out of her anger about the prep school. Alfred was tempted to remind Bruce he couldn't buy her love. But, anything to get her out of her sulk was worth it at that point.

"Be good," he said over his shoulder as he left.

Good, hah! As soon as she heard the door close, she tossed her book aside. Things here in the mansion weren't all they seemed, she was sure about that. Molly crept in her stocking feet down the hall towards Bruce's study.

Bruce and Dick always left late in the night, when they thought she was asleep. They would slip by her door and go—somewhere. She thought she could hear the faint sound of a car speeding up. Once she had gotten out of bed and padded down the hall, wondering where they wer.e

"Miss Molly! You're awake."

"Yeah," Molly blinked, looking at the butler, who seemed shocked to see her. "I could hear voices."

"Master Richard and Master Bruce had an emergency at the company."

"And Dick had to leave?"

"It is rather complicated, and I do wish you wouldn't ask me questions about it, I'm afraid I can't explain it." and Alfred never asked anything of her. He never even asked her to put her dirty clothes in the hamper when she forgot.

"Can I have some water?" she asked to change the subject. She couldn't stand the awkward silence that she sensed spreading between them.

"I'll bring you a mug of hot chocolate. Hurry back to bed, it's freezing in here. I'm so sorry," he fussed as she went back to bed. She hadn't realized that he was right until then, and began to shiver, rubbing her arms in the thin cotton nightie as she climbed back into her clammy bed.

"Poor Molly," Alfred came in with a steaming mug of cocoa, topped with cocoa powder and whipped cream just the way she liked it. He brought along a quilt and covered her with it. "I didn't realize that Master Bruce had turned down the heat so much, no wonder you couldn't sleep."

"It wasn't because I was cold. I was fine, don't worry about me." she smiled as she sipped her drink. Alfred looked at her for a moment before putting his hand to the side of her face.

"Someone should worry about you. You need to be worried about. Not because you're a child. Just because... You look so tired, Molly."

And she was tired, and fell asleep as soon as her mug was empty. She didn't even hear the butler come back in to take it away, silently pulling the blanket up around her house and making his mental note to get heavier curtains for her room. She hadn't seen him prepping the drink, slipping in just a few drops of a sleeping medicine.

But now... She knew there was something up. Every night that they had to disappear to the office, Alfred would come in with a cup of cocoa. She didn't always fall asleep, sometimes the two of them stayed awake, playing Slap Jack and reading poetry (she had discovered Alfred liked hearing her read English sonnets). But sometimes, just now and then, she would fall deeply asleep, sleeping almost past her alarm.

She opened the door to Bruce's study, feeling her face turning red. The back of her neck prickled. This wasn't exactly honest, she knew that. But she wasn't going to go through drawers or anything. She wasn't going to open the documents on his computer. She just wanted to know if there was anything overtly strange that would give her some kind of a clue.

She stepped inside, closing the door gently. The room contained a desk, a computer, Bruce's chair, and shelves and shelves of books. The desk was cluttered with papers, and these she peered at. But they were only accounts, things that she didn't understand.

Molly left and continued down the hall. She stopped just outside Bruce's room, her hand hovering on the door knob. No, this was one thing she just couldn't do. This was just the one thing that she could not make herself do. Whatever was in his room would have to stay there.

She felt the same way about Dick's room. She went to the library instead, sitting amongst the books, feeling ridiculous. What did she think was going to happen? Was she going to find some magic crystal ball that explained everything to her?

She went up to the grandfather clock, staring at the pendulum. She reached out to touch it, wanting to feel the heaviness of the wood, longing to know if it vibrated when the pendulum swung. To her surprise, the whole clock swung to the side.

"The fuck is this?" Molly hissed, staring into the dark cavernous stairs.

Dick came inside, throwing his coat to the side. He dropped his bag of the floor. If Bruce was home, he'd insist that he pick it up. But the car the butler drove himself around in wsa gone, and so was Bruce's. Molly would be the only one home.

"Molly!" he shouted. "Hey Molly! Come on, I'll take you on my bike to go and get ice cream or something!" there was only silence.

A few times they were home alone together, and he would put her on the back of his bike and pedal them down to the cafe that was only a few miles away. He loved it when Molly rode behind him, her arms around his waist, her chin on his shoulder. They always tried to be home before Bruce or Alfred.

He loved sitting with her at the cafe, watching her sucking chocolate ice cream with syrup off her spoon. He liked listening to her talk about the books that he was reading for English. She surprised him with her insight, with the questions she asked, with the way her head tilted to the side, her fingers tangling in her hair.

"Molly?" he called again, a chill going up his spine. Where was she? She hadn't gone with Alfred, he knew that. He ran through the house to her empty room, saw the book open on the bed. "Molly! Molly Annette!"

There was only silence. He went pale and ran to the library. He froze when he saw the clock moved and ran down the stairs.

"Molly!" he froze. She was sitting in front of the computer, her eyes red and swollen. She was holding Batman's cape, spread across her lap. Her fingers were stroking the material, feeling the Kevlar.

"I think you have some talking to do, Dick."

Dick went to the case and selected his own cape. He quietly took Batman's, putting it gently to the side.

"That's not your style, Molly Annette. This is." he pulled Robin's cape around her shoulders, watching the material drape over her and pool at her feet. She stood in her black t-shirt and ratty jeans. He reached out and put his arms around her waist, pulling her close to his chest.

"Why didn't you-?" she began.

"Please don't ask me questions. They aren't all for me to answer." he whispered in her ear. He was once again aware of the delicate structure of her bones, the way he could crush her with his bare hands. He didn't have to use physical force to hurt her.

When Bruce came home, he knew instantly that there was a problem. He entered his home, dropping his keys on the table. He immediately headed for the library, running down to the Batcave.

Molly was standing there, with Dick.

She looked up at him, Robin's cape around her shoulders.

"I knew you'd come for me," she lifted her chin to look Bruce in the eye.


	7. Chapter 7

"There's so much I have to explain." Bruce swallowed. Molly nodded, pulling the cape tighter around her. Dick pulled her closer to him. Her back was against his chest, his arms locked around her chest.

"So that night, that night I was out with Ryan."

"Yes, Molly, I was the one that found you."

"Why did you bring me back here? Because you felt sorry for me?" Her body tensed and Dick nuzzled her hair.

"No. I just... I couldn't leave you there, bleeding from the head. I could have put you where the ambulance crew would have found you. It's just that I couldn't do it. I couldn't leave you. You needed me."

"I needed Batman, not Bruce Wayne."

"We're the same person."

"No you aren't." she shook her head, leaning against Dick. "Batman... I would have known if you were Batman." she hug her head, shrinking into the cape.

"Molly." he sat down in a chair and reached out, putting his hands on her shoulders. "I don't know what you want me to tell you. What's wrong? Are you disappointed? Are you angry that I didn't tell you?"

"I don't know!" she shook her head, reaching up to undo the cape. "Bruce, could you die doing this?" his eyes went wide as he suddenly understood.

"Yes." silence spread across the three of them. Dick reached out for Molly, his hands fell back to his body. He shook his head at Bruce.

She turned and started to walk out of the cave.

"Wait!" Bruce stood up to follow after her. She turned to glare at him.

"Don't worry. I won't share your precious little secret." she stomped up the stairs. Alfred was standing in the library, staring with shock.

"Young lady! Did you-." he stopped scolding when he saw the look on her face. He sighed, looking very old suddenly.

"Come with me, Miss Molly. I think you need to be put to bed."

Molly followed Alfred, feeling numb. He helped her lay on the bed, stripping off her socks for her, pulling the blankets up around her shoulders. He dimmed the lights and pulled the blinds shut. He sat down in the chair next to her bed.

"That's not the way we wanted you to find out."

"Why didn't you tell me, Alfred?" she curled into a tight ball, pulling her favorite stuffed bear into her chest.

"It wasn't my secret to tell you." he put his hand on her forehead. "It was my secret to keep, but I couldn't tell you. It had to be Master Bruce doing that all on his own."

"Didn't he trust me?" 

"Of course. But you must understand that the people he deals with... If one of them got to you, they would kill you to find out anything they could about him." he looked closer at her. "But that's not what's bother you, is it?"

"No," she shook her head. 

"You're bothered because you wanted him to tell you right out and allow you to keep his secret. Isn't that it?"

"Yes," she whispered. Alfred sighed and pulled the blankets up around her shoulders.

"I wish I could make this easier on you, Molly. I wish there was something I could say to make everything easier on you. But I can't, there's nothing I can say to make this all better. All I can tell you is that Master Bruce and Master Richard are some of the kindest, bravest, strongest people that I have ever known. And do you know something?" she turned her face to look at him.

"The same light that's in their eyes is the same light I see in your eyes."

She gaped at him. The butler silently rose and dimmed her lights.

"I'll come and wake you up for dinner."

Bruce was sitting in his study, fidgeting with his pen. Normally he prided himself on being able to sit still. He disliked any show of weakness, any sign that he might be nervous. It wasn't good for criminals to be able to detect when Batman had an issue. As a result, Bruce Wayne had to lose part of his humanity, too. At least, for the most part. There were times when he did manufacture a fidget, because that was just the thing to do.

Today though, Bruce couldn't keep up the stillness. He had seen the look of betrayal on Molly's face. He had heard it ringing in her voice as she ran up the stairs. When he turned to look at Dick, the boy could only put his hands up, a showing of his own neutrality.

This was one fight the Boy Wonder didn't want to get into.

"I've laid her down in her bed to rest, sir." Alfred appeared with a mug of tea.

"Did she seem upset?"

"Rather," Alfred began to dust around the room.

"Do you think she'll get over it?" it gave the British man pause. The feather duster wilted to his side. He turned to his employer.

"I cannot say, sir. I can say I can understand why she was hurt. I don't think she wants to stay angry with you."

"I see," Bruce sighed and stood, looking out the window at the darkening sky. "Is dinner almost done?"

Molly joined them for dinner, looking only at her plate. She didn't speak, poking idly at her plate. Dick tried his best to keep up a flow of airy conversation, eventually falling silent himself. Bruce finally put his fork down.

"I'm sorry if you're angry at me, Molly. But you have to understand I can't just tell everyone everything."

"You could have told me." she looked up.

"I couldn't have told you. Telling you would have put you in a dangerous position. Don't you get it, Molly? I would rather die than see you get hurt because of something I did. I didn't bring you into my home just to make you a trap for every mugger, thief, and Joker that comes through Gotham! I trust you, I wouldn't have let you stay here in my home if I didn't trust you." he met her eye.

"I just don't want to think that you're hiding things from me."

"It's not because I want to!" he insisted. "Molly, you have to trust me that I do things to make you safe. I want you to be safe. I love you, Molly."

She stood up from her seat and walked around the table to Bruce. She stood next to him, her free hand playing with the hem of her t-shirt.

"I love you, Bruce. I just don't want you to lie to me, because that makes it so hard for me to love you." she looked up.

"I know, Molly. And this is going to be hard for you." he sighed and reached under the table to the empty seat next to him. He presented her with a wide manila envelop.

She looked at him curious, and undid the strings holding it closed. She pulled out a ream of papers, with official seals. She looked up, confused.

"Adoption papers?"

"You don't have to sign them. Nothing is going to happen unless you sign them." he handed her an expensive looking fountain pen. "If you decide not to sign them, I'll find somewhere else for you to go." He rose from the table himself and walked off, leaving her holding the paper work.

They left later that night, the Bat Signal shining bright in the dark of the night sky. Bruce paused outside of Molly's room. Her light was still on. He saw her sitting against the brass headboard, propped up amongst the lacy pillows. The papers laid on her lap, her eyes staring wearily at them.

He turned and hurried down the hall, leaving her there.

The night was long and aching. He returned home, feeling battered and bruised. Though he hadn't run into any of the super villains, he hated the nights full of diamond thieves and petty thugs perhaps more. It was hard, watching people through their lives away.

Robin climbed out of the Batmobile, taking off his cape before he was even properly out. He dutifully hung it up in silence. He had been quiet all night, thoughtful and still. Batman had to admit it was a side of him he sort of enjoyed seeing.

"Are you angry with me?" Batman finally asked, his voice gravelly and exhausted.

"Why should I be?" he asked carefully.

"Because you didn't get adopted. And Molly is." he sat down in front of the computer.

"No, I'm not really mad about it." he sighed. "I understand. I didn't want you to adopt me anyway. I have a family, I have parents. They just died. Molly needs to have that kind of grounding." he finished taking off his costume, changing into pajamas.

"I'm headed to bed."

Batman just nodded, turning to the keyboard, his eyes falling on the open envelope. His pen laid on top. He carefully lifted the pages with his gloved hands. His eyes scanned down until he found the line he was looking for. There, written in careful, girlish cursive was one name.

Molly Annette Carpenter.

"Molly! Come on! It's time for school!" Bruce shouted down the hall. She came shuffling out, her school clothes half on. She squinted at him, rubbing her arm. The cast had finally come off, but she complained of stiffness some days.

"Last day of classes." she grumbled. "I don't even want to go." she plopped down at the table. Bruce just shook his head and pointed to her foot. She was wearing one blue sock and one green sock.

"Well, you have to. You want to get your grades back, don't you?" he patted her head as she dropped down at the table. Dick came out a few minutes later, looking pressed and put together. Molly gave him a dirty look as she began to eat her waffles.

The past four weeks had been an adjustment for all of them. But Bruce had to admit that now he couldn't imagine the Manor without her. He couldn't imagine not hearing her chirping laughter at dinner. He couldn't imagine not passing by her room as he hurried off to don his cowl and make the city safe, not peeking in and seeing her asleep in that bed his mother had so carefully chosen all those years ago. He couldn't imagine not smelling her perfume, not seeing the eyeliner around her eyes as she walked out the door for school.

Molly belonged there.

This particular day, she rose up, fixing her clothes and smoothing down her dark hair. She rubbed at her eyes and then smiled.

"So I'll see you later?" she asked Bruce. He nodded, finishing his coffee. He had finally give Dick permission to ride her on the back of his motorcycle to school. She put on her backpack, smiling as Alfred handed her a lunch.

"I'll be home by five thirty, Molly." he smiled as he watched them walking out of the house together, already laughing and giggling about something that was their own private joke. The two of them showed a world that Bruce couldn't even begin to understand.

He downed the rest of his coffee and hurried to go to the office.


	8. Chapter 8

The summer stretched out in front of her, hot and sticky and lazy. She was laying out in the garden. Sweat trickled down the back of her neck. The sun beat down on her legs, looking long and lean in the cutoffs she was wearing. Dick slipped slowly neck to the bench she was laying out on, lifting her legs and settling them into her lap.

"What'cha doin'?" he asked calmly. She opened her eyes and grinned.

"Feeling this gorgeous sunlight for the first time in months." she fairly purred. Dick gripped her ankle, his hand sliding up her calf to the back of her knee.

"I was just speaking to Bruce. He said he wanted to send you to summer camp." she sat up then, her legs going flat in his lap.

"What? Why?" she frowned.

"He didn't say. He just asked if I thought you wanted to go. I didn't say yes or no, I said he had to ask you."

"Summer camp!" she cried. "You mean away from the Manor?"

"That was what it sounded like. He was looking at pamphlets in Vermont." she flew up off the bench, her bare feet slapping against the rough stone walk way. She rushed inside the Manor, brushing past Alfred on his way out with drinks for the two of them. She rushed into the study, throwing the door open.

"Bruce!" she cried. He looked up with a smile from his desk.

"Yes?" her cheeks were just barely sunburnt. Her eyes were bright and wide. Her lip was quivering, her arms shaking. The smile melted off his face. "What's wrong?"

"Why are you making me go to summer camp?" she cried.

"Oh, did Dick tell you? Well, your art teacher told me that you're good at pottery, and I found a camp in Vermont that does that. I thought you'd like it."

"Why are you making me leave?" tears welled in her eyes.

"Making you leave? Molly, it's just camp." he sounded perplexed.

"You adopted me! Even if you're tired of me, you can't make me leave. You promised that you would keep me."

"I am keeping you! I just thought you'd like to spend the summer away from the Manor, that's all. Business picks up in the summer. I hate to think of you spending every day here alone except for Alfred." he stood up and walked over to her.

"Calm down, Molly."

"Oh," she seemed to melt. She looked down at her dirty feet.

"What are you so afraid of?"

"I'm afraid that you might change your mind." she mumbled. Bruce froze.

"I would never change my mind. I adopted you Molly. I wanted you to come and be my daughter. I wanted you to be a part of my family." he put his hands on her shoulders. She lifted her face.

"I would never send you away. If you don't want to go to summer camp, that's fine. I just wanted to make you the offer, that's all."

She leaned against him. Her hands clutched big handfuls of his shirt, her face pressed against his chest. Bruce squeezed her gently.

"It's okay, Molly. You're all right, Little Bit."

"Little Bit?" she pulled her face back. Her nose crinkled. "Why do you call me that?"

"Because you're so short." he laughed. "Now, if you really don't want to go to camp, that's fine. But I think you should go."

"Okay Bruce. I'll go." she whispered. "I'll go."

"She's only been gone for four weeks, sir." Alfred looked amused at Bruce who was pacing next to the car.

"We should have gone to pick her up from camp ourselves." he mumbled. "Anything could happen."

"She wrote that she wanted to ride the bus, Bruce. She said that's what all the kids were doing. It would have embarrassed her to pick her up." Dick laughed. "Calm down."

"They're twenty minutes late!" he was all but wringing his hands in worry.

"On a camp bus with thirty other children, Master Bruce." Alfred reminded him gently. "She's just fine."

It was at that moment the bus pulled up. The kids came pouring out. All three men stopped to wait. Then there she was, her hair pulled up in a loose pony tail in the middle of her head. She was wearing a denim jacket, artfully painted. Her limbs seemed a shade darker, as though she'd gotten a little sun. This hadn't been a traditional camp. Oh no, not for Bruce Wayne's adopted daughter. This had been a camp with air conditioned cabins and speed boats. They hadn't eaten industrial slop. They had eaten catered meals. They had slept in queen sized beds made up with fresh sheets every morning. Her eyes scanned the crowd as she hiked her bag up on her shoulder. She spotted them, her face breaking into a grin.

She ran off the bus, her sneakers covered in spots of clay. The past four weeks in the Manor had seemed endless without her. He had missed her coming down to breakfast, looking rumpled and still asleep. He had missed seeing her and Dick stretched out on the floor, watching a movie together. He had missed knowing she was there.

"Bruce!" she cried.

"Molly!" he shouted. She flew into his arms. He clutched her to him for a moment before pulling her back. He looked at her carefully. "Did you have fun?" 

"A blast." she grinned. He went with Alfred to collect her things while she turned to Dick. He looked at her and smiled. She turned to him, ran the few steps into his arms. He picked her up and spun her around before holding her against him. Her face was buried in his neck, her arms tight around him.

"I missed you." she whispered.

"I missed you too," he murmured back. While Molly had sent letters addressed to the three of them, full of jokes and descriptions of her counselors, letters full of life and laughter, she had also written to Dick alone. These were quieter letters, letters written about the things she dreamed about night, letters about her quiet thoughts in the morning when she slipped out of her cabin to go and sit in the pre-dawn.

_I wonder, Dick, where you are. I wonder if you and Bruce are out there, chilled by the night. I wonder if your face is being punched right now. The thought kills me. It kills me to think of Bruce that way, too._

_Do you miss me? Do you lay awake at night at miss me? I miss you. I lay awake and remember my arms wrapped around your waist while the wind whips our hair. I remember riding to the top of the hill to watch the sun setting. I remember you looking down at me. _

_I miss you so, Dick. I can't wait to be home with you again. _

There were letters that he couldn't bring himself to answer. There were letters that he gobbled up time and time again. He had indeed missed Molly. She clung to him until he finally put her back down, Bruce and Alfred appearing with her luggage.

"I didn't send you with this much stuff."

"Oh," she flapped her wrist. "I made stuff there that I brought home. Can we go home?" she asked. "I really want to go home and sleep in my bed and eat dinner with my family."

A warmth spread in Bruce's stomach. She was calling the Manor home. She was calling them her family. He nodded and climbed in back with her. It had been a long ride from Vermont, they had left at the crack of dawn, she said with a yawn.

She leaned her head against the seat, asleep before Alfred even hit the first red light. Her head lolled to the side, resting on her shoulder. Dick carefully arranged himself so her head rested on him. He smiled at Bruce who could only smile back.

"I missed her."

"I know." Bruce said softly. "But I don't think she'll have to leave again." they quickly arrived at the Manor. Bruce began to carry her things in, while Dick lifted her up and carried her in himself. He carried her to her dark, quiet room, already cooled by the A/C. He stretched her out, taking off the clay covered shoes, sliding off her denim jacket.

"Dick?" she mumbled.

"I'm here," he rubbed her cheek.

She smiled, her hands around his wrist before falling asleep again.


	9. Chapter 9

Molly was stretched out on her bed, on top of the covers. The A/C was turned on as high as Alfred would allow. She was still drenched in sweat. The Batsignal had gone off. Bruce hadn't been lying when he said there would be days and nights when she was left alone with Alfred.

Not that she minded that too much. There were some fun times with Alfred, that was for sure. Sometimes they slept in until noon and spent the day watching old black and white films, eating popcorn (which the butler knew JUST how to season with the perfect amount of salt and butter). They must have watched Casablanca three times.

And sometimes, they got up early, and Molly would tie her hair back in a bandana and put on her rattiest pair of jeans. The chose a room of the mansion and cleaned it top to bottom. Molly often did the floor scrubbing, the water seeping through her pants to drench her knees.

"You don't have to help me, Molly." Alfred would say as he dusted a shelf. She'd shrug.

"Gotta earn my keep somehow."

"No. Master Bruce ADOPTED you. He made you his child. There is no keep for you to earn here." he looked at her curiously. She would just shrug and continue to scrub at the floors.

Tonight, it was boiling hot. Her room felt like it was suffocating her. Molly stood up, tugging her thin t-shirt away from her body and padding down the hall. Alfred would be long since asleep, or perhaps in the Batcave waiting for Bruce and Dick to come home. They were somewhere in the Middle East now, she wasn't sure. The less she knew about these missions, the better off she would be.

Dick's room was down the hall, between her's and Bruce's. She slowly opened the door, and was greeted with the scent of Dick. She always wished she could describe it, with proper adjectives. Instead, all she knew was that it was spicy, perhaps a bit like musk, and a little like the Irish Springs soap he used.

It was a smell Molly loved. The red numbers on his alarm clock read three am. He'd either be home soon or not at all. He wouldn't mind, surely, if she crawled into his bed to wait. It had been days since she'd seen him. It only made sense to wait up and welcome him home.

She stared around for a minute, looking at the posters left over from the circus. She always loved the one of the Flying Graysons. Dick's mom in particular had always looked glamorous, with her tight leotard and her winning smile. The same smile Dick had. The poster was right above his bed. Above Molly's bed, she had hung a framed picture of her own mother.

His bed was made up with fresh sheets. The comforter was a simple green color. Her own was printed with black and white flowers. She laid herself on top of it, feeling the chill of the air condtioner with a relieved sigh.

"I'll just wait here for a few minutes to see if they come home." she told herself, stretching her legs before curling into a ball.

Dick Grayson fairly dragged himself down the hall, still rubbing his wet hair with a towel. It had been a grueling week, searching for Ra's Al Ghul. Finally, finally they were back in Gotham, back at the mansion... Back with Molly, where they belonged. Bruce had tried to pretend that he was just excited to be home to sleep in his own bed, as much sleeping as he actually did, but that hadn't stopped him from asking eagerly about the girl to the butler.

Boy Wonder had wanted to stand under the shower for hours. The hot water had been heaven beating down on his sore muscles. Finally, he had climbed out and tugged on the sweats and t-shirt Alfred had laid out for him.

He shivered in the cool air as he pushed his door open. He paused for a moment, staring at his bed. Molly laid there, curled into a ball, her head on his pillow. She stirred in her sleep, rolling onto her back. He stood in the doorway, the girl bathed in the dim light from the hall.

He knew he should wake her up. Should send her back to her own room. But tonight... Tonight he needed her there. He needed her to ground him. The wet towel fell to the floor to be ignored. He tiptoed to the bed and gingerly laid down on the edge.

She seemed to know he was there as she adjusted herself to lay on her side and face him. Her arm went around his waist, her face nestled into his chest. He wrapped his own arms around her.

"What are you doing in my bed, Molly Annette?"

"Waiting for you." she yawned. "You're finally home." he nodded and kissed her forehead. Her face tilted up sleepily, her lips pressing against his, a surprised, tender kiss.

"I hate it when you leave."

It wasn't until the morning that things started to get sticky. Dick was awake first, having been

trained from an early age to need little sleep. Molly was still asleep, her leg thrown over his, her arms tight around him.

"Molly?" he whispered, shaking her. He was uncomfortably aware of the hardness in his pajama bottoms. "Molly, wake up." He couldn't bare if she found the hardness in his pants.

"No," she mumbled. "It's early." she snuggled into him, her face finding the hollow between his neck and shoulder.

"Molly," he whined. "Come on, you gotta get up." her body was a light warmth, and his hips wanted to arch closer to her, press against her. She pressed against him, squirming when his penis pressed against her thigh.

"Dick?" she squirmed again. He sighed, closing his eyes. "Are you awake?"

"Yes, Molly." he whispered. "I'm awake. Are you?" In response her hand reached between them, resting gently, cautiously on him. Dick peered into her sleepy, innocent eyes and leaned forward, kissing her. She tasted sweet and gentle as her mouth opened. His tongue dipped inside of her mouth, eager for more.

His hand slid from her shoulder down to her chest. He cupped her breast through her t-shirt. She whimpered against him. He squeezed and let his hand trail down to her hem. Just as he was sliding it up to her hips, the door opened.

"Dick? Molly?" Bruce stared from the door way. Both children quickly drew their hands back to themselves and looked up.

"What are you doing here?"

"I came to wait for Dick." Molly swallowed.

"And by the time we got home it was so late that I just let her sleep here." Dick explained. Bruce gave him a look that said he'd be getting a talking to later.

"You're HOME!" Molly cried as she flew off the bed and to Bruce. She threw her arms around his neck as he picked her up and spun her around a few times. "I missed you so much!"

"Missed you, Little Bit." he said quietly, his lips pressed against his daughter's cheek. "I missed you too. I brought you back something. Go take a shower and get dressed for breakfast." she nodded and flounced out of the room.

"Dick..."

"I know, Bruce, I know. But I didn't make her do anything she didn't want to do!"

"I would never think that you would ever do anything to hurt Molly intentionally." the last word

of that sentence hung heavily between them. "Dick... You're both just young. And her especially, she's fourteen years old and she just lost her mother. I don't want her to start something she's going to regret." he rubbed his face with his hand. "You know, when you start doing things like that with girls, I want you to be sure you love her. I want you to know that-." he was turning red.

"I know." Dick said softly. "I do love Molly."

"It's my fault, I suppose. You haven't really hung out with any other girl. How can you know who you love?" he sighed and turned to walk out. "Don't do it again, Richard."

"Okay, Bruce."


	10. Chapter 10

Bruce sat on the balcony, ignoring his laptop. The children were in the pool splashing and laughing, chasing and goading, Molly's fair skin already turning pink. He knew that soon enough Alfred would come back to chase them inside, to apply aloe to her burned shoulders. He knew that soon enough, the Batsignal would go off, and they would have to leave the girl here in the protection of Alfred.

Sometimes he wondered if he ever should have been allowed to keep her. If only the courts knew just what it was that he did. But all they saw was money, and all they saw was the fact that he could send her to the best schools, had a pool in his back yard, and could buy her a pony if he wanted to.

She was starting to thrive. She hadn't fallen into the role of rich girl, Daddy's girl, spoiled princess. He was sure she never would. If Bruce had suspected she was one of those girls, he never would have brought her back to the Manor. That wasn't the type of girl he wanted, that wasn't the type of daughter.

Dick was lifting Molly high now, her feet in his hands. She was giggling wavering, then growing still. With a jerk, he lifted his arms up and launched her upwards. She landed with a huge splash, a dropping plunge. The way his heart had felt the night he saw her wearing Robin's cape. The night she had looked at him with such betrayal and heartbreak. Or the morning he had caught the two of them in bed together.

It hadn't happened since, he was sure of it. He knew Dick knew that Molly was innocent and young, and too open for hurt. And God, he didn't want her to love him. Not that Dick wasn't good enough for her, just that... She didn't need to live this life of fear and worry. And Dick was never going to get out of the crime fighter gig.

She was floating on her back down, her hair fanned out around her head like a lily pad. She looked so still and peaceful, almost dead. Bruce caught his breath as he leaned over the balcony railing. She lived a dangerous life. She didn't even know it. She didn't even really comprehend all the people that would love to kill Batman's daughter.

"Molly Annette." he said softly. She seemed to hear, even though he had whispered. She turned her head to look at him, her eyes opening. She lifted one hand and waved. He waved back at her. Dick snatched her up and tossed her casually. He chuckled at her shriek and indignation as she attacked, leaping onto his back.

"Shall I go get them, sir?" Alfred was at his side, watching them. Bruce shook his head.

"Let's let them be children for a minute more. Then we can drag them back." Alfred nodded and made to leave. "Oh, Alfred? Bring me the aloe. I want to take care of my child."

Molly winced as she toweled her hair dry. Her shoulders had baked. She hadn't even taken off her bikini top off yet, afraid to see the burn marks. She sat on her bed and contemplated her comb. She ought to take care of her hair, but even lifting her arms hurt.

"Little Bit?" Bruce knocked on her door, opening it slowly. "You look like a crispy critter." she rolled her eyes, aware of the sunburn across her nose.

"I may have ignored Alfred's warning about the sun today." she spotted the green bottle on his

hand. "Oh, you come from God in heaven."

"Here." Bruce knelt before her, pouring some aloe into his palm and rubbing it carefully into her shoulders. He gave her a sympathetic look. Funny, she thought. She'd seen Dick come in with cuts, twists, sprains... He hadn't given Dick that look. Just Molly. She smiled and crinkled her nose as he anointed her face.

"Molly... The other morning when I found you with Dick..." her face wasn't red from sunburn now. She had been waiting for this. "That can't happen again."

"I like Dick."

"You're fourteen. And he's sixteen. That's not okay with me. Date someone your own age, okay honey?"

"Bruuuuce," she knew she was whining. "No one is going to be like Dick. He gets me. I like that." Bruce sighed and kissed her forehead.

"I'm forbidding it, Molly. The answer is no. You're still a child, and..." he stopped himself, seeing the look on her face. "I know that you feel differently. But you ARE a child. I won't deny that you've been through a lot, I won't deny that you're not like other girls. But you are a child, and you're my child, and I am telling that won't happen under my roof again, with my daughter and my ward. Are we clear?"

"Yes, Bruce."


	11. Chapter 11

The summer sun was finally setting. Molly was laying out on Bruce's balcony right outside his home office. She liked to go out there and read. At first she stretched out on the floor, a pillow and blanket under her stomach.

Bruce liked it when she was out there, liked working on the computer and being able to peer over his shoulder at her. He arranged first for the hammock,then for the mosquito netting so she wouldn't get eaten up.

"Hey babe," it was a new term of endearment. She grinned, seeing Dick through the netting. She stood up, opening it and letting him in. He climbed into the hammock and held it steady with his foot, letting her climb on next to him.

"So I was talking to Bruce..." she rolled over, her chin on his chest. 

"You're not leaving again, are you?"

"No, silly." he patted her back, let his hand rest at the top of her spin. Her shoulders were peeling, leaving a healthy tan color. "He wants you to go to Gotham Prep."

"We talked about that! I said no." she sat up, almost tilting them over.

"He said this time you don't get a choice. I just wanted to warn you." he tried to pull her back down. She launched herself out of the hammock and stomped across the balcony through the office.

She looked so far from intimidating in her tank top and painted toenails. Her legs, tanned just a bit, seemed impossibly long in her denim shorts. Dick trotted after her anxiously. He didn't like it when his guardian and his-whatever Molly was fought.

"Bruce!" she stormed into the living room. Bruce looked up from his paper and saw Dick's worried look. He calmly folded the paper. There was no shaking the Batman.

"Molly?"

"I am NOT going to Gotham Preparatory school. If my mom had wanted me there, she would have put me there herself." she had her hands on her hips, right where her shorts were clinging. Her knees were shaking though, exposing her true emotions.

"You don't have a choice. I am your parent."

"Mom didn't want-."

"Your mother was broke, Molly. She didn't have an option about where you went. But she would have wanted you to have nothing but the best." he sighed, looking a little put out. Molly paused.

"I don't like the implication that Mom didn't give me everything but the fucking moon." it was the first time Dick had heard the curse come rolling off her little pink tongue. Bruce stared.

"You're going to watch your language, little girl." he said in a low tone, awfully close to his Batman voice, actually, Dick realized.

"I am NOT a little girl." she insisted. "I'll be fifteen in October."

"You are a child and you are my child. You are going to Gotham Prep. Dick will be going with you." oh right, his senior year, Dick remembered. Molly's hands were clenched into fists at her side.

"Everyone and everything I know is back at Gotham High! That's where I belong. Why do you want to erase my old life? Why do you want to take away the person that I was?" she demanded, the frustrated tears in the corners of her eyes.

"I don't!"

"You DO!" she insisted. "You keep saying that I'm your child, and I'll do what you want me to do. But I'm still my Mom's daughter, I'm still her child even if she's dead." she swallowed, her lip quivering.

"I know that." Bruce said carefully. "And when I adopted you, I did it to extend your family, not make you forget the one you had. Don't cry, Molly, there's nothing to cry about."

"You don't understand. I don't want to leave those people."

"It isn't them that's the problem. It's the educational quality and the danger there. There are metal detectors being put in. Security guards. God, Molly." he stood up. "If something happened to you, it would kill me. Don't you get it?"

"Do you think," she gave a hiccuping sob. "Do you think that I would be any better off if something happened to you when you're-when you go out to work at night? Do you think that wouldn't just break my heart? I've already lost two parents, Bruce, I cannot lose a third. But I've never once tried to stop you from-working."

"This is different."

"Because you're not a child?" she crossed her arms, hugging herself. He just looked at her. How was it that one girl was able to make him speechless? He could face down the Riddler, but not Molly. He sat back in his chair, exhausted.

"Because things are different. Now I'm sorry if you're upset about it, but on September first, you will be going to Gotham Prep. Alfred has ordered your uniforms. There is to be no more discussion."

"I-I hate you!" Molly screamed. "I hate you so much! You should have left me to rot in foster care!"

"Days like today, I wish I had." he said, sounded tired. She flew out of the room, blowing by Alfred and slamming her door. Alfred and Dick stood awkwardly in the room, looking at each other. Dick hadn't remembered any blow ups like this. Then again, he was nine when he was taken in, and not fourteen. It hadn't been easy adjusting to this life, but he had Robin to escape. What did Molly have?

"Master Bruce, I do think you were quite out of line." Alfred said quietly.

"I know! This whole father hood thing is different with a girl. It's different when they're fourteen, it's different when she's so stubborn. Dick never said he HATED me, how could she HATE me, Alfred?" he put his hand to his forehead.

"She doesn't hate you. She's powerless and frustrated and that scares her." before Bruce can respond, the Batsignal is going off. Dick and Bruce seem to move as one to the clock, to get down to the Batcave, to down their costumes and go.

Molly watched the light from her bed, where she'd been screaming into her pillow. Her throat was raw, her body shaky. She sat up, listening for the roar of the Batmobile which never came. She pulled her knees to her chin, sitting to wait for the sound of them walking to bed.

It was going to be a very long wait.

It had been a long night, to say the least. The nights with Bane were always endless. The madman had wreaked havoc, had been holding a girl hostage. A girl with black hair like-like his daughter's. Perhaps that was why he had felt that rage inside of him, fought so hard. Taken so many hits for her, hits that weren't needed. Robin had been great, had his back all night.

The boy was almost unable to undress. He showered and almost crawled to his bed. Bruce had stood for a long time under the hot water, hoping that it would wash away his hurt. He should face this with rationality. But how can you be rational when your kid looks you dead in the face and screams she hates you?

He climbed the steps to his own room. He paused at the figure in the doorway, leaning against the door, curled into a tight ball. His body tensed as he crept closer-. 

"Bruce?"

"What are you doing out of bed? Why are you sitting there?" he didn't return her greeting. "Are you not feeling well?"

"No, I don't feel good." she mumbled. He paused, feeling the bruises blossoming on the small of his back.

"Well. I'll get the thermometer." he made a move to the bathroom. She shook his head and reached

for his hand.

"That's not why I don't feel good." her lip was quivering. Bruce looked down at her and quietly bent over, ignoring how much it hurt and set her on her feet.

"Why don't you feel good, Moll?"

"I don't feel good..." she began. "I don't feel good because I thought that you weren't coming home."

"But I came home." he reached out and put the back of his hand to her forehead. He let the back of his hand stroke down her cheek.

"But I didn't think that you would, and the last thing we talked about was that I hated you. And I DON'T hate you, Bruce. I don't hate you, I love you. I'll go to Gotham Prep, I will. I'm sorry, I don't hate you." she was crying again, barely breathing.

"I know." he took in her swollen eyes and the dark marks underneath. "I would never leave you to rot in foster care."

"I'm sorry."

"I know. I'm sorry, too." he brushed at her cheeks. "Come on, Molly, I'll put you to bed, okay?" he put his arm around her shoulder. She leaned into his side, unaware of his damaged ribs. He couldn't make her stand up straight. It was a pain he was willing to bare for her.

He helped her onto the bed in her room, pulled her quilt up to her shoulders. Bruce sat on the edge

of her bed for a moment.

"We're going to fight. That's part of being in a family."

"I know. But I don't have to be cruel." he smiled.

"You're a child, Molly. You're entitled. Good night."

"Good night," he stood and walked to his own room. Suddenly, all that he had been through that night didn't matter so much.


	12. Chapter 12

The first day of school dawned bright and clear. Molly shuffled into the dining room. She sat down and put her forehead on her folded arms. Bruce blew over the top of his coffee and raised an eyebrow.

"Late night?"

"I don't feel so good." she looked up, her eyes glassy, her hair tousled. She had adopted a pair of Dick's old bottoms as her own, the bottoms rolled up her calves.

"Where don't you feel good?" Alfred came in, setting down a cup of tea.

"I have a stomach ache." she lifted her head. The butler tsked.

"First day jitters, Molly dear. You'll be fine." he patted her shoulder. She ignored the tea and left her head resting down. Dick came in and paused behind her chair. He put his hands on her back. She just shook her head.

"You should have gone to bed sooner, Molls." Bruce stood up. "Drink your tea, at least. I don't want you to drop dead of hypoglycemia." he patted her hair. She didn't raise her head. Bruce paused in the kitchen.

"Should we let her stay home?"

"She has to get the first day over with sooner or later, sir." Alfred began to pile the pots and pans in the sink. "She is your child. You make that choice." Bruce sighed and checked his watch.

"She'll call if she feels really ill, won't she?"

"It could be a female thing, sir." he said delicately. Bruce pondered that and nodded. "I've placed some-items in her bathroom for her use. I'll put out the hot pad for her."

"Make sure they get off to school, please." he hurried to the garage. "Have a good day, kids!" he shouted over his shoulder.

Molly squeezed her eyes closed, her arms tight around his waist. Dick glanced over his shoulder at her. She would look adorable in her dark blue sweater and her plaid little skirt. But the green tinge in her cheeks made her look half dead.

"Diiiick," she tugged his sleeve. "I really need you to stop."

"Why, babe?"

"Because I think I'm gonna puke." it was enough to make him pull the bike over. She climbed off and ran to the bushes, emptying the meager contents of her stomach. She stayed bent over, her hands on her thighs.

"What's wrong?" Dick frowned as he handed her a water bottle. She swished and spat and rubbed her forehead. "Jitters?"

"I guess." she sighed. She turned back to the bike, walking on wobbly legs. Dick climbed on and helped her adjust her grip, frowning at the weakness in her hands.

"Sure you can make it, Little Bit?" he only called her that in moments of true distress. She rested her head between his shoulder blades and nodded.

"It's only until three. Right, Dick?"

"Right," he kicked the bike and steered them the rest of the way to Gotham Prep.

Bruce Wayne was sitting at his desk, checking his e-mail when the phone rang. He frowned at the Caller ID and put on his clueless rich man voice.

"Hello?"

"Mr. Wayne? This is Mrs. Stones, the secretary at Gotham Preparatory." there was an urgency in her voice. "I'm sorry to disturb you at the office, but we couldn't get a hold of Mr. Pennyworth."

"Is something the matter? I mean, of course it is, but-." he trailed off.

"Your little girl Molly is quite ill in the nurse's office. She spent the morning vomiting and she's running quite a high fever, I'm afraid. The nurse suspects something quite serious. Would you like to come get her, or shall we call an ambulance?"

His heart stopped beating in his chest. He knew he could get there before any ambulance.

"I'll come get her. I'm on my way. Can you please get Richard out of class and have him ready, I'm going to need his help carrying Molly."

"Of course, sir." he hung up the phone and snatched his jacket and cell phone. Alfred, most

likely, was doing a big shop to make a celebratory dinner to mark the beginning of a new school year. It gave Dick something to look forward to, and of course he would want to do something for Molly.

He was running, pulling on his jacket, shouting over his shoulder to Isabelle, his secretary. He was down in the car before he knew what was happening. Thank God for his training as the Batman, otherwise he would have no idea have to remain so calm.

Gotham Prep loomed before him, the gate already opened, possibly for him. Normally he'd have to punch in a gate code or, if he couldn't remember (and sometimes the clueless bachelor did!...though the Batman never forgot) show his pass to the security guard, a silver haired man whose own grandchildren attended.

He threw open the front door to the ancient, castle like school, brushed by the students. The boys in their blazers and ties, the girls in their blue sweaters. How cute Molly had looked this morning, with a ribbon in her hair, and her blue sweater pressed and prim, smelling faintly like her perfume.

Dick was hovering outside the nurses office, tapping his toe anxiously. Bruce spotted him and power walked over.

"What's wrong?" he demanded, dangerously close to his Batman voice. Dick swallowed.

"She's sick, Bruce." the way he said it made his heart drop. "She's got a fever and she's just throwing up all over." Bruce gently moved him to the side, looking at the girl laying on the cot. The nurse looked relieved.

"Mr. Wayne, you must take her straight to the ER." Bruce nodded and picked Molly up, her head leaning limply into his chest.

"Bruce?"

"I'm here, Little Bit." Dick was picking up her book bag. The nurse was gathering a bowl and a bottle of water.

"I'm sorry."

"For what?"

"For making you leave the office." she mumbled. He just brushed at her hair, stringy and faintly sticky.

"I would have left the moment I knew you were so ill. I'm so sorry I made you go, Molly Dolly." he was hurrying her out to the car, wrapped in the blanket. "Can you sit in the back with her?" he turned to his ward, who nodded and climbed into the back, ready to receive the girl into his lap. He held her against him as Bruce started the car and steered them towards the hospital.

"Master Bruce!" Alfred's face came over the small television screen that was hidden behind the radio. "I just got home and found a call from Master Richard's and Miss Molly's school. She's ill!"

"I've got her, Alfred." he said through clenched teeth. The girl whimpered in the back.

"It hurts, Dick." she whispered. He rubbed the small of her back.

"Just hold on and stay awake, okay? I know you're tired and you feel like crap, but stay awake for me."

Alfred agreed to meet them at the hospital. They pulled in and Bruce himself carried her in. The triage nurse was gently questioning her, taking her temperature and pulse. She shook her head. Of course, Mr. Wayne was a very generous benefactor of the hospital. So naturally, any child of his was taken back almost instantly.

"But what's wrong?" Dick demanded.

"I'm afraid it's her appendix. If we don't get her to surgery soon, it could burst. Molly?" she spoke loudly to the girl on the stretcher as she hooked her into an IV. "Say good bye to your dad, okay? Tell him you'll see him soon. Tell that to Dick, too." Molly reached weakly. Bruce's hand caught hers. She smiled.

"I knew you'd come for me." she whispered. "I know that you'll be here when I wake up." he nodded, kissed her forehead. Dick kissed her cheek and nuzzled her ear. No words were spoken between the two of them, but then... They never needed it. The two of them had a silent language all their own, spoken with eyes and the corners of their mouths, and the way their bodies leaned into one another.

Alfred appeared just then, breathless and frantic. He caught Molly's hand and clutched it to his chest. An oxygen mask was being placed over her face.

"Molly, darling girl, do please forgive me, I ought to have known and let you stay home." he said in one breath. She just smiled and touched his face.

"Will you watch Bruce and Dick until I wake up? They're really worried." she managed as a nurse injected something in her IV line. "I need to know they'll be okay until I wake up. Will you, Alfred?"

"Nothing would please me more than to watch them for you, Molly love." he smiled as they began to wheel her quickly towards the OR. Dick stared at the closing doors. He wanted to fly after them, insist he had to be there to hold her hands, that he could stomach anything.

"Come, Master Richard. It's time to go and sit down." Alfred put his arm around the boy's shoulder and pulled him into the family waiting room. Bruce was already sitting down on the couch,

her hands clenched in fists in his lap.

"I could always don the cowl." he said thoughtfully. "Crawl through the air ducts, maybe? See what I can see?"

"Master Bruce." Alfred scolded. Bruce fell silent, drumming his fingers on his thigh.


	13. Chapter 13

The hours ticked by, Bruce paced, Dick sat on the floor, his head resting on his arms, his arms on his knees. Alfred sat prim and silent, watching the door. The surgeon would come in at any moment, there was no reason to fret, he told himself.

The doctor opened the door, peeking his head in.

"Mr. Wayne?"

"Yes?" Bruce looked up eagerly.

"She's in recovery if you'd like to go in and see her now. I do apologize for it taking so long, she lost more blood than we anticipated. We weren't able to go in laprascopically like we were supposed to be able to. She'll have a scar but..."

"But she's okay?" Bruce was already standing. The doctor nodded.

"I can only take one of you back at a time. I thought you'd want to go first?" Bruce glanced over at his companions and nodded. He was lead back to a still, quiet room. The doctor drew a curtain, and there was Molly in a reclining chair. Her eyes fluttered open.

"How long until I can take her home?" he reached for her hand, holding it between his. "She feels so cold."

"A nurse will bring her a blanket in a bit. You can take her home maybe six hours. I don't know. We'll have to see how she's doing." he looked at the two for a moment. "She's going to be just fine, Mr. Wayne."

Bruce stared at the small body, laying there, looking small and defeated. He played gently with her fingers, admiring the sparkling blue nail polish, that was just starting to chip at the edges. He put one hand on her cheek, feeling the smoothness of her skin, the warmth, inhaling the scent of her perfume. It was a small that not even the antiseptic smell of the hospital that was burning in his nose could kill.

"Molly?" he said softly. "Molly, can you hear me?"

"Bruce?" her eyes seemed to drag open, squinting even in the dim light. "What happened? All I remember is being sick between homeroom and English. What happened?"

"You had appendicitis, Molly. They had to take it out."

"That explains why it feels like a walrus just crawled out of my belly button." she mumbled. "Where's your cape?"

"Shh," he hushed her, eyes darting around to make sure no one was there.

She pulled on his hand, pulling it closer to her, snuggling it against her as she drifted off to sleep. He pulled the stool closer to her, sitting down slowly so as not to disturb her. Sooner than he wanted, he would have to let go of her hand and let Alfred and Dick come back to see her and make sure she was okay with their own eyes.

Sooner than he wanted he'd have to let go of her hand forever. He'd have to know that nothing he did could save her. Not even when he was wearing the cowl would he always be able to protect her.

But that didn't mean he couldn't try.


	14. Chapter 14

"So." Alfred was bustling around her room, something he relished doing since her surgery. He ignored the dark look on her face. "What would you like for your birthday, Molly?" 

"To be allowed outside." she looked hopeful. He raised an eyebrow.

"Alfred!" she whined. "It's been almost six weeks, and the doctor said I could start going back to school."

"Six to EIGHT weeks, and I have no intention of letting you off lightly." he paused as he adjusted the blinds on her windows to let in the sunlight. "You gave me quite a fright that day, you know."

"I know, I know." she groaned, lolling in her bed. She was getting tired of her room, tired of pajamas, and tired of posters. At first, she had relished the thought of being waited on hand and foot. At first, she had looked forward to Alfred coming and waking her up and making her smoothies. She had enjoyed Bruce sneaking off to buy her anything that might tempt her appetite.

But autumn had come on full swing, and she wanted to go outside before it got too cold to do so. Her birthday was in a week, and if she wasn't allowed to at least go see a movie as a celebration for being fifteen, she was going to be very unhappy. She sighed and looked at the butler.

"It isn't just me, Molly. Master Bruce likes you being here too. It was so good of the school to send your homework so you could keep up, at least." he gestured to the pile at her desk. She had been keeping up, because it was something to break up the monotony of her days.

"Except now every other new person is going to have made friends and be fitting in. I'll be the only new girl!" she sat up dramatically. "Can't I even go hang out in the living room? Or outside Bruce's office in my hammock?"

"Not outside." he looked aghast. "You could catch a chill."

"If I stay in here much longer I'll get bedsores." she grouched. Alfred sighed. 

"To the living room, then." he gathered the extra pillows and blankets from her closet and ushered her to the biggest and softest couch. The living room was decorated in modern furniture. Alfred had confided in her that when Dick was small, he didn't trust the boy around all the expensive antiques. Apparently Dick had been full of mischief and energy.

Molly could see it. She could see the boy bolting around the house in messy hair with dirty knees. She giggled a bit to herself at the thought as she settled herself in a delightful little nest. How did she already feel tired? She yawned as the intro to Days of Our Lives came on and the butler parked himself in his favorite chair to pair the socks and "keep an eye on her".

Right. He loved this soap. Molly let her eyes drift closed, telling herself she'd only be still for a

minute, just to get her breath back. She wanted to be awake when Dick came home.

The sixteen year old stepped into the house, removing his bike helmet. He hung up his jacket dutifully, put his helmet on the table. He wanted to run straight into Molly's room, jump on the bed to lay next to her as he had been doing every day for the past few weeks. He wanted to snuggle in close to her and start telling her all about school.

"She's in the living room, Master Dick," Alfred called from the kitchen. He appeared in a moment, carrying a tray of cookies and a small bowl of soup. "She insisted that she needed a change of scenery."

He stepped into the room and contemplated the bundle on the end of the couch. Alfred set the tray on the coffee table. He remembered when Bruce had bought it from IKEA. He thought the British man was going to have a heart attack. How could such a cheap piece of garbage be brought into this distinguished manor?

"If you could wake her up and see to it she at least smells this soup, I would appreciate it, young man." he gave him a knowing look.

"Don't play too rough with her. She is still recovering."

There wasn't much you could hide from Alfred. He probably knew about their gentle wrestling sessions on her bed. He tried to keep it as PG as possible. It was so tempting, sometimes. It was so tempting on the days when he came in and she was sitting up, wearing a tank top with her hair brushed down around her shoulders. It was so tempting to push her back amongst her pillows and kiss her so hard, her head would spin. It was so hard not to let his hand trail down her hips, to grip and squeeze them. He wanted to know what he could do to make her squeal.

Of course, Bruce had forbidden it.

Which only made it more fun.

"Molly," he shook her shoulder. Her eyes fluttered open. After a blurry minute, she beamed and threw her arms around his neck.

"You're home, you're home, I missed you today." she whispered breathlessly. He gave her a squeeze and helped prop her up on pillows.

"Alfred made you soup." he put the tray on her lap and started to munch on the cookies. She looked at it disdainfully.

"You gotta eat at some time, babe."

"I'm just not hungry."

"You're losing weight."

She shrugged and obliged him by at least picking up the spoon. Dick flipped the TV over to the sports channel.

"Play with me," she demanded after taking a few sips of broth. She set the tray aside. He did a double take, feeling his cheeks burn. "Not like that! Sicko. You have a one track mind, do you know that?"

"What do you want to do? Monopoly? Sorry? Parcheesi?"

"Take me outside." she leaned forward in her boxer shorts and tank top. "Take me out to the fresh air."

"Oh no!" he shook his head. "There is no way I am going to do that. Bruce and Alfred will kill me. And you know Bruce has all sorts of funky ways that he'll be able to do that." he looked at her and took in her big green eyes.

Fifteen minutes later, he was carrying her on his back through the mudroom and garage. She was wearing a pair of his sweat pants and one of his sweaters. Alfred had gotten busy on the telephone and trying to get dinner made at the same time.

"You're gonna get me killed, kid." he grunted as he put her down on the bench. She smiled broadly. The leaves were changing. She leaned back, drinking in all the color, and feeling the air on her cheeks.

"I'll be fifteen next week." she said softly. Dick sat next to her, rolling an acorn between his fingers.

"The first one is the roughest. The first birthday. The first Christmas. The first anniversary." he handed it to her, watching her rub the smooth part with her thumb.

"Does it get easier?"

"You're always going to miss her, Molly. You're always going to wish she was here. You're always going to go through things and think that they would be so much better if only you could have your Mom here with you."

"I know that," she sounded resigned. "I just want to know, Dick, if it's always going to hurt like this. If missing her is always going to be a thorn in my side."

"No," he said thoughtfully. "No, it's not always like this. Eventually, you'll like missing her."

"How?" she turned to him, confused. "How can I like that?"

"Because you'll know it means she's still alive. Even though she doesn't walk this world anymore, it means she's still alive and she still loves you. Missing her is a way of remembering, and remembering is the best way to keep someone alive."

"Then wouldn't it be better to forget? To let her go and let her rest in peace?" a silence spread between the two of them. Dick twirled a leaf, bright orange and smelling sweet, between his fingers. He turned to her and tucked it behind her ear. It fell out almost instantly, the stem not being strong enough to hold up even the flimsy weight of the leaf.

"No, Molly." he let out a breath. "No, it isn't better to let her rest in peace. I think, that probably, the people we love will only be at peace if we're happy. And we're not going to be happy if we forget them."

She put her arms around Dick's neck, snuggling into him.

"I don't know what I want for my birthday." she sighed. "I don't know what I want. Except for you."

"Me," he repeated, his cheek against hers. "Why do you want me?"

Before she could reply, Bruce was outside. He contemplated the two of them silently before turning around.

"Time to go in." Molly scrambled up his back, her arms winding around his neck. Bruce hooked his arms under her legs. He jerked his head at Dick.

"You come, too. Alfred's got dinner made and you know he doesn't want it to get cold."

"Am I in trouble?" the girl asked in a small voice. Bruce smiled and shook his head.

"No. Honestly, I would have tried to break out too, being in that room for all this time. I can't blame you a bit. But Dick," he turned to his ward. "Try to be quieter when you sneak someone out. Alfred heard you as soon as you started talking."

Dick gaped and mumbled as they headed in.


	15. Chapter 15

She woke up a week later at what felt like the crack of dawn. There was a ruffling sound in her room, a sound that was hushed as she opened her eyes. Carefully, Molly pulled herself into an upright

position.

"Wh-who is that?" she stammered. Her heart thudded in her chest. What if someone had broken into the mansion? What if it was Two Face or Joker or The Mad Hatter or any of the other insane people that Bruce had put away? What if it was one of the dozens of people who had every reason to want to seek revenge if they figured out who he was?

The silence prevailed. Molly pulled the blankets off her lap, ready to put her feet in her slippers and scream for Bruce. Before she had even pushed the blankets off all the way, a lighter flicked on. Three faces were illuminated.

Bruce, Dick, and Alfred all stood grinning at her. She felt the corners of her lips turn up in spite of herself. Of course she should be mad. She should hate that they had come into her room while she was sleeping. But Bruce was lighting the candles on the cake that Alfred was holding.

And Dick... Dick began to sing.

"Happy birthday to you... Happy birthday to you... Happy birthday dear Molly, happy birthday to you." they all sang. She stared at them, smiling as Bruce put the tray in her lap and they set down the cake.

"Make a wish, before the wax drips everywhere." Dick prompted. She closed her eyes tightly and blew carefully, making sure each of the fifteen candles went out.

Bruce lifted the knife and began to cut slices of the cake. He watched Molly, already smiling and laughing as the other two men came to give her birthday kisses. He made sure the biggest sugar rose was on her slice of cake, made sure that it was an end piece with lots of frosting.

"Cake for breakfast?" she asked incredulously as she accepted the plate.

"Well, if you'd rather, I could make you some oatmeal." The butler teased. She shook her head and began to eat her birthday cake.

"This is an amazing birthday party." she smiled, looking straight at Bruce. She knew he'd left last night when the Batsignal went off. She knew he'd probably only gotten in a few hours before to drop into his bed. And still, here he was, standing beside her bed to celebrate her birthday.

"I had intended for you to have a huge one," Bruce sighed. "But I'm afraid you're not quite healthy enough for it, yet. We might wait and do a big Christmas birthday party."

Molly frowned. She didn't really like the idea of meeting all of Bruce's friends. The Batman's friends, or lack thereof, those she thought she could deal with. But the high society people? The people that were the parents of the children she went to school with? That thought terrified her.

"It's time for me to get ready for school." Dick checked how watch. "It's a half day, so I'll be home early and we can do something special." he leaned over and kissed the girl on her cheek. "Happy birthday,"

Alfred excused himself too. When they were alone, Bruce sat on the edge of her bed. Molly smiled and reached for his hand. She played with his fingers, marveling at how long and thick they were. She felt the roughness of his callouses, saw the faint bruising that started at his wrist and went much farther up his arm, she was sure.

"You always come home so abused." she shook her head. He smiled and caught her hands.

"I have another present for you." he reached into the pocket of his robe. He handed her a velvet box. She gave him a careful look and almost put them aside.

"I don't need presents from you, you know." she swallowed. "You—you found me. You brought me here. You keep me safe. You love me. I think that's all I have any right to ask of you."

"But you didn't ask. And what kind of father would I be if I didn't get my daughter a special something for her fifteenth birthday?"

She smiled then and opened the box, gasping. With trembling hands, she lifted the strand of pearls. Of course, these weren't plastic pearls, or glass ones. These weren't a piece of department store finery. These were real.

"These are gorgeous." she breathed. Bruce smiled as he reached into the box and lifted them out. He leaned across her, his face next to hers as he clasped them around her neck. He kissed her forehead and leaned back.

"My mother, your grandmother wore a strand just like these." he inhaled. "The night she died, she was wearing them. I always thought that a proper woman needed a strand of pearls. You're not a little girl, Molly. You're a young lady."

"Bruce!" she threw her arms around his neck. He held her to him for a minute. "I can be a little girl sometimes, just for you. If it makes you happy."

"You make me happy." he assured you. "You make me happy."

Molly sat on her couch, sitting up and wearing a long silk robe that Alfred had given her. He had given it with a matching pair of slippers, saying that he thought she might like a little bit of glamor while she had to sit around at home.

She had indeed spent the day pampered, like a real princess. To her surprised Alfred had arranged for someone to come and give her a proper manicure. He said that everyone deserves one day where they have the whole world cater to them.

She suspected he was tired of seeing her chipped black nail polish. But the feeling of someone giving her French tips and someone picking up her feet and rubbing at them... It had been Heaven. The girl had even cut her hair, putting layers in her black hair and making her big green eyes seem wider and larger.

"Is Dick coming home soon?" she asked hopefully as Alfred walked by. The butler nodded and handed her a muffin, fresh from the oven.

"Lunch is ready as soon as he comes in, so don't spoil your appetite." she nodded as she began to eat, feeling her eyes glaze over while watching Maury. How hard was it to remember who the father of your baby was, she wondered. Didn't anyone keep a list?

Suddenly, arms were around her, lifting her up and over the couch. She squealed and leaned back into Dick. He smelled like his cologne and the crisp autumn air. She squirmed until she was turned around, her legs around his waist.

"Happy birthday." he whispered in her ear.

"Thank you. What are we going to do that's special?" she asked eagerly. He shook his head and set her down.

"After lunch." he headed into the kitchen, being led by his nose to the table. Alfred had, of course, made her favorite tomato soup. But Molly was distracted by wondering what her present from Dick would be. The boy suddenly looked up from his lunch and started laughing.

"What?" she blushed.

"Seeing you in that robe and those pearls with your hair all done up... You make me think of some society woman named Kitty. All you need is a gin and tonic." he laughed. She shook her head.

"Bruce gave me the pearls." she tilted her head back.

"Did he?" he smiled. "They're beautiful. You're beautiful."

"I should only be gone a few hours, children." Alfred was putting on his coat. "Behave. Get your homework done. Don't spoil your dinner." he gave them a careful look. "A few hours." he repeated, leaving and climbing into the car.

As soon as they heard the car pull away, Dick turned to her. He snatched her and pulled her close, his mouth colliding with hers. Molly melted into him, whimpering as she wound her arms around him.

"Now... Now you get your special present." the acrobat lifted her up and carried her bridal style to his room. He had made his bed, to her surprise. The room was the perfect temperature. After he had laid her out, he lifted up a book of matches and lit the three candles on his bedside table.

"What are we doing?" she whispered.

"You'll see," he hushed her. He stood at the side of the bed, stripping off his school clothes and leaving them in a pile. He reached for her robe, undoing the silk tie at her waist and letting it fall open. He reached out and pressed his hand to the flat of her chest, to the valley of flesh between her breasts.

"Dick..." she breathed. He felt the flutter of her heartbeat against his palm. Dick slid into the bed next to her, watching her slither out of the rob. Their naked bodies fall together. His thigh slipped between hers, his arms around her waist.

"Are you scared?"

"How-how far did you want this to go?" she breathed against his neck. Dick kissed her cheek.

"No farther than this. No farther." he promised. Their lips met again, tongues clashing and tangling and twisting. Her body rolled on top of his. His erection poked her hip as she nuzzled into his neck.

"We're going to have to stop before we want to."

"I know, Molly." she sat back, the blankets fall around down around her hips. "You look like a goddess this way."

"I'm not a goddess. I'm just street trash who got really lucky." she smiled. Dick shook his head.

"No. You were always meant for this life. You were always meant for my life." Molly could feel the tears stinging her eyes as she bent over to kiss him again. They laid together, bodies entwined. Time ceased to have meaning for the two of them, being together. Feeling the wholeness of the togetherness.

"Do you love me?" she whispered in the mid afternoon silence as their heartbeats fell into sync.

"Yes," she turned to look at him. "Yes, Molly Annette. I do love you."

"I love you," she repeated, her voice thick.

"Happy birthday, baby."


End file.
